“You can bet your buttons I would, Pack Gallagher,” Mara Shannon retorted quickly. She looked up at her husband, her eyes shining with love. “Pack raises money to support the orphanage by promoting boxing exhibitions,” she explained, beaming with pride.

  “It took a long time, but my wife has finally come to appreciate the sport,” Pack said.

  “Only with gloves.”

  “Yes, love. Only with gloves.”

  “How are things at the orphanage?” Katy asked.

  “Fine. Just fine. We have twenty-one children there now. After you left, we advertised for a teacher and hired a woman from Nebraska. She’s working out just fine. Are Mary and Theresa with you?”

  “No. They’re back in Trinity. On our way here we spent the night with Sam and Emily Sparks. Emily told me you were coming to stay with her for a while.”

  “I wondered how you knew. How is Emily? As soon as Pack is finished tomorrow, we’re going out to the ranch until after the baby arrives.”

  “I bet Sam’s watching over Emily like a mother hen,” Pack said with a deep chuckle.

  “I can’t say that I blame him a bit. I’d be doing the same if my wife was giving me a child.” Rowe’s arm went about Katy’s waist and drew her close against his side. “We’d better let these people go in and eat, sweetheart.”

  Mara Shannon’s expressive eyes went from Katy to Rowe. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Katy. Are you staying here?”

  “In Room 204,” Rowe said before Katy could answer. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Mrs. Gallagher.” He offered his hand to Pack. “You’re a lucky man.”

  “I be knowin’ it. So are you.” Pack grinned at Katy.

  “Katy and I are going for a walk about town,” Rowe said before she could retort. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

  On the boardwalk in front of the hotel, Katy turned to face Rowe. “You deliberately let them think that you and I . . . that we . . . that we are—”

  “A couple? We are, sweetheart. Will you be cold without a shawl?”

  “No! And don’t change the subject.”

  “What’s wrong with letting them know we’re mates?”

  “Mates? We’re not mates!”

  “We will be . . . soon. Come on.” He took her elbow and urged her down the walk away from the hotel. “Don’t get in a huff over minor details.”

  Rowe held her close to his side as he steered her past the loafers leaning against the buildings lining the street. Light streamed out of the windows and doors of the shops and saloons they passed. The town was alive with drovers, drifters, gamblers, miners, and soldiers who had come to town to celebrate the Fourth of July.

  They passed a saloon where someone was playing on an off-key piano. Loud male voices, the scraping of boot heels on the plank floor, and the clinking of glasses came from another wide entranceway with twin swinging doors. Further down the street, a woman was singing “Believe Me If All Those Endearing Young Charms.” The voice was surprisingly good, and the audience was quiet while she sang, but when she finished, a roar of shouting, stomping on the floor, and the pounding of whiskey bottles on the tables proclaimed their approval of the popular song’s rendition.

  Rowe moved Katy quickly against the wall and stood protectively in front of her when a man with a white apron wrapped about his waist suddenly burst from the dark interior of a saloon and propelled a bearded drunk from his establishment. With a loud string of obscenities the burly bartender threw the man into the street. Stunned, he lay there. A horseman coming down the street jumped his horse over the inert body, and a carriage with iron-rimmed wheels passed, barely missing him.

  “He’ll get run over,” Katy exclaimed. Even as she spoke the drunk was rolling toward the side of the street and came up against the edge of the walk.

  “He’ll be all right. This is the rough part of town. We’ll cross here and go back on the other side,” Rowe said as they stepped down from the walk into the street.

  Katy was cold. No matter how hot the days, the nights were cool in the mountains. Her teeth almost chattered when she asked, “Where’s the Opera House?”

  “At the other end of town. Do you want to see the show?”

  “No. I thought you might want to see it. You were invited, you know.”

  “I know. Nan Neal is quite a woman. She can kick higher than a man’s head.”

  “What a glorious accomplishment!”

  A satisfied smile settled on Rowe’s face. If he read the tone right, Katy was jealous. A good sign.

  “The stage office is down this side street and on the corner is the bank where I do business. This is the Territorial Government Building,” he explained and paused in front of a two-storied brick building.

  “Clearly the most impressive building in town,” Katy murmured. “Are there any churches?”

  “Three. The churches and the school are behind this side of the main part of town up there on the hill. The cemetery is on the hill beyond the other side of the street. Here’s E. Olinghouse & Co. They have one of the best lines of merchandise in town. Is there something you want?”

  Katy read the sign posted at the side of the door. GOOD NEWS! JUST ARRIVED VIA THE MISSOURI RIVER AND FORT BENTON: A LARGE STOCK OF FANCY AND STAPLE GOODS. The variety of the items listed below the large block letters ranged from sugar to hay forks and everything in between. The open door of the store looked inviting, and Katy wished that she had the money to buy something pretty for Mary and Theresa. Not for anything did she want Rowe to know she had only a small amount of money left. Even while she was thinking these thoughts, Rowe was leading her into the store.

  “I don’t need anything.”

  “Look around, honey. I want to get some cigars.”

  It was warmer inside. The scent of spices mixed with leather goods, wool, new wood, and cured meat was a pleasant smell that at one time had been familiar, but one she hadn’t experienced for more than a year. An array of tools, rope, and all manner of supplies essential to life in a mining town and its surrounding area filled the store. One had to maneuver around barrels, chairs, wagon seats, plows, shovels and nails. Crocks and wooden churns lined the aisles, as did huge iron kettles and washboards.

  Katy paused at a long table where ribbons in all the colors of the rainbow were wound neatly on spools. She fingered the satin cloth and once again wished she had money to buy a length for Mary and for Theresa. She moved on to gaze at the bolts of material, the boxes of buttons, the lace trimmings, and a spool cabinet of thread. There were ostrich feathers for hats and whalebones for corsets.

  At a table piled high with men’s hats, both wide-brimmed and bowler, she came face-to-face with a man who was moving toward the door. He stopped, and the way he looked at her was so intense that she couldn’t look away from his piercing blue eyes. Katy’s fleeting impression was that his hair beneath the gray bowler hat was very light, as were his brows, lashes, and mustache. It seemed that he towered over her ready to spring, reminding her strongly of the cougar that stalked her from the ledge behind the funerary in Trinity. She knew instinctively that this was a dangerous man.

  Justin stared at the woman. He had seen his half brother come into the store with her and had heard the endearment. A wave of almost uncontrollable anger flowed over him. The horny black devil had latched onto this beautiful blond, blue-eyed woman! Damn his rotten soul to hell! He was set to mix his dark blood with that of a pure Caucasian. He hadn’t married her. If he had, the marriage hadn’t been recorded. Justin had checked into that as soon as he’d come to town.

  For all the woman’s beauty, she was dirt or she’d not have taken up with a foreigner who was as dark as a mulatto. Feeling the veins in his neck begin to swell as anger and hatred consumed him, Justin quickly sidestepped around the woman and walked quickly out the door. He had to get away, to think and plan. He headed down the street toward the saloons where the whiskey was watered down and the tarnished angels who served it wore faded satin and had holes in their stockings. Justin was certain that before the night was over, he would find someone willing to do what had to be done.

  Katy had faced the man for no more than ten seconds, yet she felt as if she would remember his face always. He looked nothing like anyone she had ever seen before. So why had he glared as if he despised her? A good bit of the excitement of being in the store left her, and she wandered on back to the counter where the clerk was handing Rowe a box of cigars.

  “Did you see something you want?” Rowe asked.

  “No.”

  Rowe picked up a bundle from the counter and tucked it under his arm. They walked back through the store, and when they reached the doorway, Rowe unfurled a blue shawl and flipped it around her shoulders.

  “I can’t have my Nightrose getting cold,” he whispered softly against her ear.

  “No! I have a shawl back at the hotel.” Katy reached to jerk it off, but Rowe’s hands closed over hers.

  “Now you have two.”

  “No, Rowe. I’ll not accept gifts from you. I’m not your poor relation.”

  “Thank God for that! Wear the shawl, or I’m going to grab you up and kiss you right here.”

  “You wouldn’t!” she sputtered, but she knew by the look in his eyes that he would.

  “If you don’t like the wrap after you see it in the light of day, give it to Beulah. I hope you’ll keep it. It matches your eyes perfectly and it’s my first gift to you.”

  “I want to go back to the room. You can go on to see your friend at the Opera House.”

  Rowe ignored the suggestion. “Are you warm?”

  “Yes. It feels wonderful. I didn’t realize I was so cold until we went into the store.”

  As they walked past the Chicago Hotel, the Occidental Billiard Hall, the assay office and on past the store with a swinging sign that read Mechanical Bakery, Katy kept thinking about the man in the store who had stared at her. She considered mentioning it to Rowe, but what could she say? A man had looked at her, and a cold chill had run down her spine?

  They crossed the street to the building that housed the printing press, stopping at the window for a moment to watch the printer roll the ink roller over the page of set type locked into the press, and then deftly place the paper over the print.

  “Have you ever watched them set the type?” Rowe asked. “It’s amazing how fast they can go.”

  “I’ve watched a printer’s helper break down the page. Each letter goes into its proper slot so when the typesetter reaches for a letter he’ll know what he is getting.”

  There were a number of rowdies and drunks on the street, and Katy was thankful to have Rowe beside her. One look at his large, muscular frame and dark, scowling face caused more than one man to make sure he didn’t come within touching distance of her, and usually the groups that congregated in front of the saloons quieted down as the couple passed by.

  The hotel lobby was almost empty when they reached it. They went up the stairs and down the hall to the room. Rowe unlocked the door, went inside, and lit the lamp. Katy stood just inside the room. The bathtub had been taken away and the room tidied. Rowe placed the door key on the table beside the bed.

  “Come on in and shut the door.”

  “It’s not proper. What if Mara Shannon should come by?”

  “She’d think we were sleeping together.” His voice was slightly husky. He drew her into the room and closed the door. “I only wish it were true.” His eyes looked into hers for a long, delicious moment, and tides of warmth washed over her. His hands gripped the shawl and pulled her to him. “Come hell, high water, or the Gallaghers, I’m going to kiss you before I leave this room.” The words came out on a soft breath.

  “Nooo—”

  “Yesss—everytime we kiss something wonderful happens and I just want it to go on and on.” His eyes held hers, his hands slid down her arms to grasp her hands and bring them up, around his neck. “Sometime soon I’m going to hold you all night long and love you in all the ways a man loves his mate—” His strange, thickened voice broke off.

  His mouth pressed against her cheek, then slid to close over her mouth. He kissed her gently, sweetly, and she thought only vaguely of resisting. Her mouth trembled beneath the searching movement of his, and a whisper-soft sigh escaped her. He sighed, “Nightrose,” when he came up for breath, but in the next instant he was back, renewing the kiss, sipping, coaxing, and stirring her until she slowly began to respond.

  She didn’t want to give in to the pleasure of his lips, the warm hardness of his body, the protective strength of his arms. She wanted to remain stiff and unfeeling, but his lips were loving hers and hers had no choice but to love him back. Feeling her melt against him, Rowe took possession of her mouth in a wild, sweet, wonderful way. His tongue began a sensuous exploration of the inside of her lower lip, his hands slid up her sides. The soft globes of her breasts against his chest were too great a temptation. His fingers stroked the sides, then moved around until the warm swells filled his hands.

  The feel of Rowe’s long body against hers was wreaking havoc with Katy’s logic. She had to think, sort out her emotions, untangle the confused motivations, and decide if this was right. His hands cupped her breasts, and a slow, dangerous fire began to seep upward from her toes until it reached the top of her head. The arms about his neck tightened and she strained closer and closer, needing to fit her body tightly to his.

  Rowe lifted his mouth from hers. His eyes, soft with love, drank in her face. Her hands slid down over his shoulders, her palms lay flat against his chest, but she didn’t push herself away from him. His heart was pounding and that surprised her because the rest of him was so still.

  “Right now—” he began with difficulty, “I’m wondering how I survived my empty life before I found you.”

  “Rowe . . . please. I think you’d better go. I can’t think clearly when . . . we’re like this.” She raised her head, her eyes beseeching and wide.

  Rowe moaned and held her tightly to him. “You liked it, didn’t you? Say it. You like kissing me.”

  “Yes,” she admitted. “But that only means that I’m attracted to you.” She buried her face against his chest and let him hold her.

  “It means more than that, sweetheart. But I’ll not press the point.”

  He wanted her to know that she was the dearest thing in his life, that she was his love until the end of time. With gentle fingers beneath her chin, he lifted her face, kissing her eyes, her nose.

  “When I hold you I feel as if I have been lost and have returned home. Oh, Nightrose, we could have gone on for years and not found each other.” He rocked her in his arms. “Deep down in your heart you know we were meant to be together. Hurry, my love, sort it all out in your mind and admit it.”

  She lowered her eyes to the throbbing pulse in his throat, incapable of but one thought. Oh, Lord! He’d seeped into her heart and there hadn’t been a thing she could do about it.

  “It’s all right, sweetheart. Don’t pull a long face. We’ve all the time in the world.” He tilted her face up to him and gently pressed his lips to hers. “You’ll be safe here. I’ll lock the door when I leave.”

  “Good night. Thank you for the supper.”

  Katy stood with her head down and heard Rowe let himself out of the room, then came the rasp of the key as it turned in the lock.

  CHAPTER

  Sixteen

  ‘I was beginning to wonder if you were coming down,” Anton said drily as he placed the newspaper on the chair beside him and rose to his feet.

  “What does that mean?”

  “The clerk said you took the lady to her room a half hour ago. He’s been watching to see if you came down. If not, he’d have a tale to tell tomorrow.” Anton’s usually unsmiling face broke into a grin.

  Rowe didn’t smile in return. He cast a threatening glance at the clerk watching them from behind the counter.

  “If I hear one word said about the lady in my room, someone will come up missing a few teeth tomorrow.” He directed his words toward the slick-haired young man who suddenly became very busy with the pigeonholes behind him.

  Anton chuckled. “There’s a spare bed over at the boardinghouse if you need it.”

  “I’ve got something lined up for the night. What did you find out at the courthouse?” Rowe led the way to the far corner of the lobby and Anton followed.

  “Our petition was granted to cut timber on 4,000 acres. It’s a small grant, but enough to get our saw mill into operation. Later, we can buy and process from independent loggers. The Rowe-Hooker Lumber Company is in business.”

  Rowe nodded as if he had expected to hear this. He took a cigar from his breast pocket, lit it, and spoke while holding the cigar between his teeth.

  “Justin is in town.”

  Anton’s head jerked around. “Your brother?”

  “My half brother.”

  “What’s he doin’ out here?”

  “That’s what I’ve got to find out. I’m sure he didn’t make the trip out of brotherly love.”

  Rowe had discussed his and Justin’s relationship with Anton and Hank one night when he was feeling rather lonely. Now he told Anton about the clerk giving his room key to a man named Rowe from back East and about getting a brief glimpse of his half brother in the mercantile.

  “If I hadn’t had a suspicion it was Justin whom the manager referred to, I might not have noticed him scurrying to get out of sight when Katy and I went into the store. I saw him from the back, but it was Justin. He always wears some shade of gray and his gray bowler sat square on his head.”

  “He could have heard about our petition to the Territorial governor to cut timber on public land. If that’s what he came for, it’s too late for him to do anything about it.”

  “He’ll think of something. He’s obsessed with making my life difficult.”

  “Maybe he’s backing another company.” Anton’s fingers went to the wire rim on the bridge of his nose, as they usually did when he was agitated. “What the hell does he know about the lumber business?”

 

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